


All Katz Go to Heaven

by sunkelles



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV), Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Canon typical violence for hannibal, Crossover, F/F, Femslash, Give Rosa A Girlfriend, I was writing this before rosa was a Confirmed Bi TM, and now i'm polishing it up to post as a celebration, canon typical humor for brooklyn nine nine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-11
Updated: 2017-12-11
Packaged: 2019-02-13 15:33:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12987069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunkelles/pseuds/sunkelles
Summary: Rosa Diaz gets a girlfriend, Beverly Katz gets a happy ending, and Brooklyn gets some serial killers it never asked for.Or the Brooklyn Nine Nine and Hannibal crossover no one wanted but I'm providing.





	All Katz Go to Heaven

**Author's Note:**

> i started writing this during my last hannibal rewatch in october and i was thinking "beverly katz deserves better and rosa diaz deserves a girlfriend" so now rosa diaz has a girlfriend and i'm still posting this, because beverly katz still deserves better and i wrote a ton of this shit
> 
> also what the fuck. how did i come up with this fic idea. 
> 
> what the fuck

The first thing that Rosa thinks when they get to the orchestra hall is that this dressing room will never be clean again. The decor is all bright white except for the places where it’s been stained red by blood. There are a lot of places where it’s been stained red by blood.

There’s blood all over the carpet and the pristine white counter. There’s even a few droplets all over the mirrors. The victim is lying up against one of the cabinets, blood still dripping out of a large hole in her stomach where something has been removed. Rosa wonders, idly, who would want to take organs from a woman that old.

Rosa glances around the small room. They are the first cops on the scene, and Rosa can’t tell if they’re the only ones there.

“There a CSI here yet?” Rosa asks.

“Why, you want one in particular?” Charles asks, wiggling his eyebrows. Rosa can’t help feeling that’s inappropriate at the scene of a gruesome murder.

“No,” Rosa says, “we just need someone here.”

“You mean we need Beverly Katz,” Charles says. Well, yeah, Beverly Katz is the best CSI that she knows. It doesn’t hurt that Rosa kind of enjoys her company. She can’t say that about a lot of people that aren’t family or the Nine Nine.

“She’s good at her job.”

“You _like_ her,” Charles says. Rosa glares. The corpse does not.

“Shut up, Boyle.”

“Come on, I know romance, dear Rosa.”

“You think that the peak of romance is shampooing a woman’s hair,” Rosa says.

“It is,” Charles says. Rosa glares. Again, the corpse does not.

“Look,” Charles says, “I can see that you like this girl. Why don’t you just talk to her?”

“I just think that Katz is the best CSI we know,” Rosa says, “that’s it.” Charles sends her a look.

“You keep telling yourself that.” Then, Katz strides through the door.

“Heard there was a murder?”

“Yup,” Charles says, “we got a murder over here!” He gestures to the bloody scene before them. Katz stalks into the room, and then stops at the corpse’s feet. Katz crosses her arms across her chest as she looks her over. She’s wearing a business casual button-up shirt under a black leather jacket with slacks and leather boots. Rosa tries to think about how well the look works on her.

Katz, for one, looks a little bit shaken. Katz always seemed so put together in the past. She’s used to blood and gore; Rosa doesn’t know why this would be any different.

“What’s your diagnosis?” Charles asks.

“She’s dead,” Katz says, her voice sounding flat.

“We knew that,” Charles says, “I just- do you have any idea how they did it? Why?”

“I need a little more time for that, Detective Boyle.” Katz crosses her arms across her chest, almost protectively.

“You alright, Katz? You seem kinda shaken. You’re normally not bothered by this,” Charles says. Rosa thinks that all of them that work in this field of work become sort of desensitized to this stuff. Rosa herself was never bothered in the first place. She thought that Katz seemed like she was the same.

“This just- it reminds me of a case I worked before.”

“You seen a lot of dead people with their organs cut out?”

“Yeah,” Katz says with a sad sort of smile, “more than I’d like.”

“Where did you work before this?”

“Baltimore,” Katz says, like that explains everything. Rosa doesn’t remember any brutal murders in Baltimore making the news lately, but maybe that’s just because New York has a bit of a monopoly on their local news. The city isn’t so short on crime that it needs to import stories from elsewhere.

“Do you have an ID on the victim yet?”

“Barbara Lassiter,” Charles says, “violin in the orchestra.”

“Were there any complaints about her?” Katz asks.

“What do you mean?” Boyle asks.

“Did anyone leave complaints about her performances? Did anyone say she played flat? Sharp?”

“We didn’t look into her reviews, Katz,” Rosa says. She doesn’t know how Lassiter’s performance as a violinist could possibly affect the case.

“Is everything alright?” Boyle asks. He’s always much better with emotions than Rosa is.

“It’s nothing,” Katz says, and her tone says that it’s _far_ from nothing. Then, she sits down next to the corpse and sets her little plastic medical toolbox on the ground beside her.

“Katz-”

“You two can go if you want.” Katz _is_ right. Technically, their presence isn’t required anymore. Charles looks between the two of them.

“I’ll go out to the car. Leave you to it.” Then he _winks._

“Boyle!” she shouts, but he’s already heading out the door of the dressing room.

“You gonna stick around, Diaz?”

“Maybe. If you want me to.” Katz just removes a medical tool from her little CSI box.

“I don’t mind,” she says. Rosa is gonna have to make the first move on this, isn’t she?

“You wanna go shoot stuff?" Rosa asks.

"Shoot stuff," Katz says. Then, she finally looks up from her little box of death tools.

"With me," Rosa grinds out, much more irritated now.

"Oh Detective Diaz," Katz coos, "are you asking me out on a date?"

"Not anymore," Rosa says, doing an about-face to leave.

"Diaz-"

"No, I'm done," Rosa says, walking towards the door. Rosa hears her getting up, and then turns around. Beverly Katz stands up and walks towards her until there’s only a little space between them. Katz is only a little bit shorter than Rosa, tall enough to look her in the eyes.

"Will you go on a date with me?” Katz asks, “Please?"

"Alright," Rosa says, "if you're that desperate. Saturday afternoon, I’ll pick you up at 3.”

“Fine,” Katz says. Then she glares, and it feels like her irritation could melt the paint off the walls. And yup, Rosa is attracted to this woman. Which is bad. Rosa is only attracted to creeps. She wonders why Agent Katz ranks among them.

“I’ll just go now,” Rosa says, inclining her head towards the door. Katz has already gone to sit down by the corpse.

“Yeah, you should do that,” Katz says. Despite herself, Rosa fights a grin as she leaves the crime scene. She has a date.

 

They meet at the shooting range the next Saturday afternoon. It's a tough and respectable pastime. Rosa is in no way embarrassed about doing it, and she doesn’t think that her date is either. Katz is wearing a red leather jacket, more form fitting and trendy than anything Rosa wears, but a leather jacket nonetheless. She hits the target every time, and the bullseye about half the time. Katz smirks. Rosa is now a little embarrassed by her choice of pastime. She should have at least been able to choose something she could beat the other woman at.

"Looky there, Diaz. I'm a better shot than the cop." Rosa glares, and shoots her own bullet through the bullseye. She refuses to let Katz know that smirk is kind of turning her on. Then Rosa shoots the bullseye herself. 

"What about now?"

"I think we're fifty fifty," she says with a smile that causes her eyes to crinkle. Katz is cute and sexy and everything Rosa looks for in a partner. And yeah, Rosa is in far too deep.

"You wanna come back tomorrow?"

"All our dates shouldn't be centered on guns," Katz says.

“I don’t mind that,” Rosa says. If they could just get together to shoot shit and then get drunk and have sex, Rosa wouldn’t mind.

“I kinda do,” Katz admits. Rosa likes lowkey shit, but she also likes Katz. If she wants a little more than that, Rosa’s willing to try.

"How about we watch a movie next?”

"Sounds fine. My place or yours?"

"Mine," Rosa says firmly, before she even realizes that she might be moving too fast.

"See you then, Diaz," Katz says, with a grin that makes her heart loop-de-loop. Inviting her over, and now this mushy gushy bullshit? Rosa knows that the stereotype about lesbians and U-Hauls isn't always accurate, and they're both bi women so she doesn't think it would apply anyways, but Rosa does know she has a tendency to get out the metaphorical U-Haul even in her relationships with men. She moves way too fast and then she retreats back into herself when it backfires on her.

If it backfires on her, at least. She almost married Pimento. God, she almost married Pimento. What was she thinking?  God, she can't believe she almost let that happen. She might have invited Katz over to her place, but she still has control of the situation. No one's gotten down on one knee. They haven't fucked like bunnies. They aren't even on a first name basis.

This is not Pimento. This is not Marcus. Rosa is totally cool. She is handling this perfectly. She can do this. She can have a normal relationship without bailing or throwing herself into it too quickly. She can do this.

 

Katz comes over for a movie the next Friday night. It doesn’t seem to be going well when she shoots down Rosa’s first suggestion.

“You don’t want to watch _Massachussetts Millhouse Murder?”_ Katz grimaces.  

"You don't like horror movies?" Rosa asks.

"I'm not a fan of the gore." Rosa bites her lip. This isn’t going well.

“What would you like?” she forces herself to ask. She normally takes charge with this sort of thing, but if Katz doesn’t like this one, then she might not like any of the movies Rosa does.

"Something funny," Katz says. Rosa chooses a movie that she would never admit to liking, a romcom that Charles suggested a few months ago called “Carol of the Bells”. It’s about two middle age women in a bell choir falling in love through a series of suburban mom shenanigans. The climax happens when Carol finally works up the courage to embrace their relationship and brings her date along to the PTA meeting. It would be perfectly sweet if she didn’t get into a fist fight with Helen for calling her a slur and then getting brownies everywhere.

Like Rosa says, it’s an interesting movie. She can’t say that she doesn’t kind of love it. 

“That was really something,” Katz says.

“Yeah, I thought it was stupid too,” Rosa says, trying to cover up any real emotions she had over it.

“No, I thought it was sweet, even though it was goofy.” Rosa nods.

"You wanna watch something else?"

"You're gonna laugh," Katz says.

“Probably will,” Rosa says. She’s not sure that she has any room to criticize after her choice, though.

"Homeward Bound," Katz says. Rosa turns it on without complaint. Then, she goes to her room and gets Arlo out of his kennel. Then, the dog curls up between them on the couch and they watch the sappy movie. It’s a sappy situation too, but Rosa finds that she doesn’t really mind.

  


They go on more dates, and they get closer. They even get on a first name basis: Rosa and Bev. Rosa still likes to call her Katz, but they’re on that level. The last names are more of a pet name at this point.

Rosa wishes that she could ignore the little blips in Bev’s idea of the world’s continuity. Sometimes she just gets thing glaringly wrong about recent history. Rosa doesn’t even understand how it happens. One day they’re complaining about Donald Trump, as has become a popular American pastime, and Rosa experiences the worst slip Bev has ever made.

“Clinton wasn’t perfect, but she was better than this,” Bev says.

“Yeah, we should have elected her.”

“No one can serve three terms,” Bev says, sounding remorseful about it.

“What?” Rosa asks. She doesn’t know what Bev means.

“Clinton already served her two terms. Someone else had to be elected after her. Shame we chose the worst possible option.”

“Hillary Clinton’s never been president,” Rosa says. She doesn’t always pay enough attention to the news, but she _knows_ that. Katz grimaces.

“Really?”

“Where have you been?”

“I don’t know,” Katz says. Rosa sighs, but doesn’t address it. Maybe she’ll have to, someday, but that’s not today.

 

That day comes soon enough. Another person shows up murdered at the orchestra hall. This time, a young bass player is murdered. His murder is even more brutal than the first. Someone shoved the top end of a cello in the man’s mouth, and then opened up his throat. She’s not called on for this particular case, but she sees the pictures that Boyle and Santiago bring back. When she sees them, she’s glad that she wasn’t called on.

“Wow,” Rosa says when they show her the pictures.

“That- that doesn’t come _close_ to showing what it was like. It was awful,” Santiago says.

“I figured,” Rosa says.

“Your CSI was totally freaked out,” Santiago says.

“I don’t have a CSI,” Rosa says.

“Bet you’re sad you weren’t assigned the case now that Katz is on it,” Boyle says.

“Not really,” Rosa says, though it sounds a little less _terrible_ now. She’s seen some brutal murders before, but that’s a whole new level of fucked up She can’t even imagine what ran through that person’s mind when they did that. She keeps wondering if the victim was alive when they shoved the neck of a cello down his.

  
  


Beverly knows who killed that boy. She knows who killed that woman, but she doesn't know how to explain it. It barely makes sense to her. She decides she has to try to tell Rosa, though. She has to at least try. 

“I’ve seen that before,” she tells Rosa, “that exact same murder- I’ve seen it before.” 

“I think I would have heard about that, Katz. You’re from Baltimore, not North Korea.” Beverly tries not to roll her eyes at the comment. She wonders if Rosa even realizes that she's making it to a South Korean woman. 

“What if I told you I was from a different Baltimore,” Katz says. Her voice comes out weathered and broken. 

“What do you mean by that?”

“I don’t even know how to start. It’s gonna sound crazy no matter what.”

“Try me,” Rosa says. 

“I think that the Baltimore I saw that murder in was in a different universe.” Rosa laughs.

“Come on, Katz. Be serious.”

“I am. I saw a body mutilated just like that. Then, a few months later, I was murdered. Then I woke up here and things were just a little bit different.” In her world where there are already two Wonder Woman movies and Alfre Woodard played the president in Marvel movies while Hillary Clinton was president. Now everything is a little off. 

“It’s alright,” Beverly says, “I wouldn’t believe me either. I was murdered by a cannibal named Hannibal, after all." 

“Hannibal Lecter?” Rosa asks. She seems stuck on that detail.

“Yes, that was his name.”

“Hannibal the cannibal?” Bev grins a little.

“I guess it’s kind of funny that it rhymes.” Rosa stares blankly at her.

“You’re not fucking with me?”

“Why would I be fucking with you?” Bev asks. She doesn’t understand what Rosa’s getting at.

“Haven’t you seen Silence of the Lambs? Red Dragon?”

“Never heard of them.”

“Really?” Rosa asks. This reminds her of the time that Zeller and Price found out that she'd never seen  _Star Wars._

“Yes, I haven’t even heard of those movies.” Or were they shows? Bev couldn’t really tell. Rosa has already pulled out her phone and appears to be searching for something.

“Here. Look at wikipedia.” Bev takes the phone from Rosa and looks down at it. In shock.

 

The heading reads “Hannibal Lecter”. The sidebar shows four different photos of four different men, and one of them is actually Hannibal.

 

“Oh my god,” Beverly says, “that’s him.” Starring right back at her is Hannibal Lecter, looking as pristine and sophisticated as he ever has. Except, of course, the moment that he killed her. His hair had fallen out of place then and there was murder in his eyes. There was murder in his hands, too, and at the end of the knife.

Beverly forces herself out of the memory. Reliving that isn’t going to help anyone, especially not herself.

“Which one?” Rosa asks.

“Oh, that’s the show version.

“Boyle watched a few episodes of that show. Said that the cinematography was great, but if he had to watch Hannibal artfully prepare another meal he was going to vomit.” Beverly feels like _she’s_ going to vomit. She’s glad that Hannibal never extended her an invitation to dinner.

“Do you think I was on it?”

“We could find out,” Rosa suggests. Beverly almost doesn’t want to. But she does, because she has a morbid curiosity to fulfill. She googles “beverly katz hannibal”. A picture of her face immediately pops up.

“Oh my god,” she whispers, "I think every single person that Lecter ever killed ended up right here in New York."

“I’d bet that’s a lot of people,” Rosa says.

"Yeah, and at least one of those was a serial killer.” Rosa’s eyes widen.

“One who stuck the neck of a cello down someone’s throat and bowed their throat like catgut strings.” Beverly hasn’t felt this afraid since she died.

“Do you think it’s the same guy?”

“How many people do you know that kill someone and then try to play their corpse like an instrument? Especially after killing four other people for their organs.”

“What would he want with their organs?”

“He’s making catgut strings out of them- well, _human_ gut strings.”

“That doesn’t help,” Rosa says.

“Higher quality strings for instruments are made out of animal intestines, mainly sheep or goat. For some reason, though, people call it catgut. My instructor never really got to that back in the day.” Probably because sheepgut doesn’t have the same ring to it.

“Wow,” Rosa says, “I never thought I’d call a violin thing badass.”

“Hey,” Bev says, “ _I’m_ a violin thing.” Rosa shrugs. She googles Tobias Budge. His name pops up on the Hannibal wikipedia first, but then the New York Philharmonic page. She glances over all of the articles, and every single picture is the same. She thinks that someone would have noticed that by this point. She wonders if something like that could happen to her.

“Do you think I should change my name? What if someone recognizes me?” What if her pictures mingle with the ones from the show and someone notices that they’re the same? Same name, same face: that couldn’t be a coincidence.

“No one’s noticed with Budge, and he’s second chair cello in the New York Philharmonic.”

“First chair now,” Bev says. She remembers being a little girl, practicing hour after hour to finally beat that first chair violinist and make her mother proud. She thought that she would have done anything to steal that first chair, but now she realizes that isn’t true. Bev definitely wouldn’t have killed her. That’s a bit excessive.

“Let’s just take care of Budge and worry about the rest of them later, okay?” Bev finds it hard to quell her worries, but she tries. It’s not like there’s anything they can do at the moment.

“You know I have at least thirty knives in this apartment, right?," Rosa says, "I promise, this apartment is the safest place you can be right now." 

“Are you telling me that I’m safe here in your arms?” Bev asks.  Rosa doesn’t blush. Rosa never blushes, but she does look away.

“No,” she says, sounding embarrassed, “I just meant-”

“I’ll take it,” Bev says. Rosa is even worse with emotions than Bev is. She doesn’t need her to say more. She’ll just take what she can get, lying here in her arms with the dog at their feet.

  


Rosa gets a warrant the next day.

It’s a difficult, violent arrest. One of the beat cops gets stabbed, but Tobias Budge is arrested and brought in largely unharmed. Considering the cops’ record with Black men, Rosa is seriously surprised that none of the jumpy beat cops shot him dead, especially after one of them was stabbed. A lot of people of color have ended up in a body bag for simply existing. It almost seems unfair that the serial killer was brought in unharmed, but Rosa tries not to devote anymore more mental energy to it.

At least they brought him in. At least he can’t hurt anymore people, and at least now she and Bev can stop worrying about it.

“I can’t believe it,” Holt says.

“Tobias Budge- a serial killer? Has the world gone mad?”

“You _knew_ him?” Charles asks.

“ _Everyone_ knew him. He was the orchestra’s most talented cellist. I can’t believe he would do such a thing.”

“Classical musicians are savages, Captain. I thought we went over this?” Charles says.

“First Weichselbraun, now Budge? What has the world come to?” Charles pats him awkwardly on the shoulder.

“I’m sorry, Captain.” Rosa’s not sure that insurance fraud and serial murder are really on the same level, but she’s not about to argue with Holt when he’s like this. Rosa grabs the paperwork off her desk.

“Hey, I’m gonna head home,” she says.

“Wait!” Jake shouts, nearly sprinting across the room towards her. Rosa rolls her eyes.

“What is it?” she asks, and she tries to sound more exasperated than she is.

“How did you know that it was this guy?” Jake asks. Rosa was able to produce the name of a suspect (and the culprit) in a serial murder case and she couldn’t even tell them how she got her info. If she were in Jake’s position, she’d be asking the same question.

“Just had a hunch,” Rosa says, but her voice sounds unsteady. She’s still grappling with the weight of this knowledge. There are so many people that man sent here, and a lot of them might be just like Tobias Budge. Some of them might be _worse._

“You know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

“Maybe later,” Rosa says. Maybe she’ll talk to the rest of the Nine Nine about this soon, but she barely understands it herself. She couldn’t explain it them, much less in a way that they’ll believe.

“Alright,” Jake says, then he grins, “are you at least going home to some victory sex?” Rosa shrugs. 

“Well, I’m gonna go have some victory sex. Probably- only if Amy’s down for it.”

“I'm not interested in your boring married people sex," Rosa says. 

"You could be having some great pre-marital sex of your own instead," Jake says, waggling his eyebrows. Sometimes, Rosa really hates him. 

 

Beverly calls Rosa a little later, and then she comes over to her apartment. They start researching the moment that Bev gets there. 

“I wonder who’s gonna pop up next,” Bev says. She’s reading through Hannibal’s wikipedia page, trying to connect every single murder she knows that he committed. At least most of these people weren’t Tobias Budge. Most of them were innocent, random victims Hannibal killed simply for being “rude”. Those were the Ripper victims. Beverly remembers most of their names, a little bit about their histories. The wiki doesn’t say anything about them, because none of them warranted time on this television show. She remembers them, though. Sometimes her firsthand knowledge gives her a better view of the situation that that damn wikipedia pages. Other times, though, the wikipedia page knows a whole lot more than she did.   


They’ll need to watch out for Francis Dolarhyde. Out of all the people that Hannibal killed, he seems like the most dangerous. He’s definitely the biggest threat now that Budge is behind bars. Abel Gideon makes the list as well.

“I feel like this is just flooding your world with our problems,” Bev says, biting her lip.

"Hey, we got you out of this. Can't complain too much." It's somehow both the sappiest and sincerest thing that Rosa has said to her, and Beverly's heart skips a beat.  She thinks that she's better off dead, at least now that she knows it got her here. She'd march into Hannibal Lecter's house all over again if she knew she'd still end up here with Rosa Diaz.

"We'll get this figured out," Rosa promises her. Beverly finds herself believing that. She might have died, but she thinks that she's died and gone to heaven. 


End file.
